The Doctor's Girl
by AuroraRose2081
Summary: John Smith is just your ordinary guy - big chinned, socially awkward and very single. But when Clara Oswald is practically dropped into his lap, his entire life is flipped on it's head. Can he and Clara survive their new adventures together in a blue Delorean known as the TARDIS? Or will destiny do all in it's power to keep them apart? (Whouffle! - Whouffaldi/Alloswin Friendship)
1. Chapter 1

The Bells Of St. John Pt. 1

If there was one thing John Smith never did, It was make House calls. That was always left up to Ten or Twelve, as both of them were much better suited for social interaction. But John, also known as Eleven by his many siblings, was an awkward, scrambling mess of limbs and words. He'd never been good with people of any kind; it wasn't really his thing. He preferred to stay at the office in his Cloud, until the days end. He rather liked his Cloud anyway. The interior walls were painted the same shade of police blue as his car, and there were pictures of all his good friends set about. Rose, Rory, Amy, Jenny and Vastra, and then one of them all together. That picture was his favorite. There was even a picture of his ex-wife, River, though it was slightly turned off to one side so her face was obscured by reflection.

But the young woman who had called him at half past three was completely and utterly hopeless. She might as well have been from a completely different century. John spent precisely two hours on the phone with her, trying to set up her new computer, but she still claimed it wasn't working. So, against his better judgement, John had collected the woman's address for a house call. It was a rarity, but she needed the utmost assistance in her technological feats, and it was John's job to help her succeed in that. So here he was now, sitting in his police blue Delorean outside a rather nice townhome. It looked like all the others on the block did, painted a neat creme, with two floors and a garage. Exhaling deeply, John ran a hand through his mop of hair, grabbed his bag and exited the TARDIS. (That was his cars name, the TARDIS.)

Galloping awkwardly across the grass and towards the front door, John lifted a hand to knock. He hesitated for only a moment before he began to pound rapidly on the wood. Not knowing if whomever inside had heard him, he rang the doorbell a few times as well for good measure.

"I hear you! I'm coming!"

The voice inside the house was slightly muffled. And as John stood awkwardly on the doorstep waiting, he froze when a thudding reached his ears. It was like something had been tossed down the stairs, a ball or perhaps a piece of furniture. Then it was eerily silent as John knocked again.

"Hello! Miss Oswald? Hello?"

He had heard her calling just a few seconds ago. Frowning, John had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he leaned down and picked up the edge of the doormat. There was a key, neat and silver, tucked underneath. Grabbing it without a second thought, John fiddled with the doorknob, letting himself into the house.

"Miss Oswald!"

A young woman with brunette hair was collapsed at the base of the stairway, unmoving as John kneeled at her side, placing two fingers against the side of her exposed neck. Her pulse was strong, but there was a slight cut at her hairline, one which was oozing and beginning to bruise. She must have fallen down the stairs in her rush and smacked her head on the banister. Taking the woman's neck in his hand, John fought the urge to lean in and kiss her forehead. That always made him feel better, whenever he got hurt. Instead, he gently removed his fingers and hauled Clara's entire body up into his arms. She was surprisingly small and light for a full grown woman, and it was easy for John to carry her figure out to the TARDIS. She needed to see a Doctor, a _real_ Doctor, and John knew just the one.

Strapping her in, John hopped into the front seat, tearing off down the street toward his own house. It wasn't far away, and Ten was probably home from the Hospital by now. On the way, a small groan escaped from Clara's lips. Glancing at her sideways, John reached over a hand and tapped her shoulder,

"Miss Oswald? Can you hear me?"

There was no answer, only other groan and a pained wince as John inhaled and exhaled. This was much to much excitement for him, "listen, I'm taking you to a Doctor, alright? Clara?"

Again, no answer as the woman lapsed back into unconscious silence. Thankfully, the ride wasn't a long one, and John was soon pulling into the driveway. The Smith home was big and bold, and was painted a deep navy color with white trim. The porch light was on, meaning someone had already passed through the doorway. Putting the TARDIS in park, John quickly grabbed Clara, holding her close to his chest as he hurried through the doorway. Amazingly enough, Ten was already coming down into the entry when he saw them.

"Eleven?" His voice sounded alarmed as John said nothing, running to the living room and laying Clara's figure gently on the sofa, "Eleven, who is this? What happened?"

"I-I well I made a house call," John didn't know what to do with his hands, and resorted to playing with them as he spoke, "she needed help with her internet. And I was there and she must have-have fallen down the stairs. I didn't...know what to do so I brought her here…"

"Alright, alright calm down. She'll probably be fine." Ten nodded at his brother and leaned down, pressing his fingers to Clara's neck, then gently pressing on places around her skull, "I think she just knocked her head on something. Her pulse is strong, her colour is normal,"

"John? Where'd you go?" Both John's turned at their name. Martha Jones had come down the stairs. She looked freshly showered, and her dark hair was pulled into a bun, "oh, sorry, am I disrupting something?"

"Not at all, Martha," Ten stated, waving a hand to the woman as she approached the sofa. Martha was Dr. Smith's nursing student. And though the relationship was purely platonic, the young woman found company in Ten's energetic presence, and often came back to the house to shower and chat after long shifts. "Tell me, what is the best course of action here?"

"Awe, the poor thing," Martha touched Clara's forehead with a gentle hand as her dark brows furrowed, "I suggest an ice pack and some tape for that cut, then lots of fluids and bedrest. She should be conscious again in a few hours,"

"I concur. Can you grab the first aid kit from the kitchen?" Martha nodded slightly and vanished again as Ten placed a hand on John's shoulder, "she'll be just fine, so buck up. I think Miss…"

"Clara."

"Miss Clara would be more comfortable in the guest bedroom. She'll be asleep for a good while I think, best give her an appropriate bed."

John nodded slightly as he looked down at Clara. It was his fault this happened. He shouldn't have ever made a house call in the first place. It wasn't his thing. Nonetheless, John gently wove his hands under Clara's figure, hoisting her up into his arms again as he slowly made his way up the flight of stairs and to the second floor. There were lots of bedrooms in the house, 13 to be exact for the boys and Eleven's one sister. But there were also a few guest bedrooms, one of which John opened. Gently, he tucked Clara under the unruffled sheets, standing aside as Martha appeared with the first aid kit and her medical experience. She patted John's shoulder with a smile and waved a hand,

"Why don't you go find some things to make this room a little more vibrant, yeah? I'm just going to fix up this cut,"

"O-ok," bobbing his head, John left the bedroom. Something to make the room vibrant? What did that even mean? Shaking his head, John scowerred the top floor, finding some flowers which his sister no doubt brought home. He also collected up a pitcher of water and a class, and the last package of Jammy-Dodgers from the secret stash in his room. And as Martha worked, John set everything up on the bedside table, more or less to keep himself occupied in the quiet. He poured a glass of water, set the flowers into an empty beer mug, and dropped the Jammy's onto a plate. But not before sneaking a bite of one, of course.

Eventually Martha left, and John fell into the nearby desk chair, watching Clara sleep. Creepy, maybe so. But he wanted to make sure she was _really_ ok. He felt so responsible after all, for everything that happened to her. Lots of busy work and a few awkward phone calls later, John himself began to doze off, only to be awoken again by mumbling. Clara's eyelids were fluttering, not in consciousness, but in dream. Leaning closer as to hear what she was saying, John had to stop breathing in order to make out the phrase.

"Doctor" the title was spoken as a name, hoarse and broken as Clara tossed in the bed, " _Run…"_ she seemed pained as her eyebrows knitted together, " _run you clever boy. And remember…"_

As quickly as the words were spoken, they were gone, and Clara's eyes fluttered open. This revealed the largest and most beautiful pair of doe eyes John had ever seen. She looked confused and disoriented, blinking a few times before slowly moving to sit up.

"Hello,"

Clara started as she whipped her head around, only to wince and groan as she did so. John played with his hands as he stood from his seat, "are...you alright?"

"I'm in bed?"

"Yes,"

"Don't remember going."

"No."

"What'd I miss?"

"Oh, quite a lot actually," John fumbled in his back pocket, holding up a white mobile phone as well as a small yellow notepad, "uhm, Angie called, she said she'd be staying over at Nina's. Apparently that's completely fine and that you shouldn't worry like you always do, for God's sake, get off her back. Uh, your dad phoned, mainly about the government, he seemed rather cross with them. I've got several pages on that…" John flipped through the pages of his handwriting before tucking it away, "I fixed the squeaking in the washing machine, indexed the kitchen cupboards, maximized the photosynthesis in the main flower bed, and assembled the bicycle in the garage…"

"The what?" Clara looked generally confused, holding her head as John frowned in sympathy,

"The bicycle? Well, it doesn't look much like a bicycle but it's close enough."

Clara seemed more confused then she was before as her fingers ghosted across the cut on her forehead,

"What happened to me?"

"You...don't remember?" John felt nervous about her health. Maybe she had amnesia? Maybe she had completely forgotten herself and her life and would have to start over anew. That wouldn't be good, not at all!

"I was scared," Clara said after a while of thinking, cocking her head slightly to one side as she rested against the headboard. "Really scared. I didn't know where I was." Glancing around, the woman screwed up her face in an adorable manner, "still don't. Where am I?"

"You're at my house." John meant that in a sincere way, but it came out more stalkerish then expected as he mentally face palmed. You don't just say that to a girl. "I mean...you fell down the stairs, at your place. Knocked your head. My brother is a Doctor, so I brought you here...just in case,"

"Oh…thank you I guess? It's not my place, actually, I'm just a friend of the family. What were you doing there?"

"You called me about the Internet,"

"That was you?"

"Course it was me. I was going to make a house call. Don't know why, you just seemed like you needed the help. You're welcome, anyway. My name is John, but people also call me Eleven. The Predator, the oncoming storm…"

"Doctor?" Clara's voice stopped him as John blinked,

"That's a new one, more suited to my brother I think. But, if you'd like,"

"I remember...we were flying, and you told me your name. It was Doctor, just the Doctor,"

John quirked a lip. That moment in the car, Clara must have been halfway between dreams. It felt like they were flying, but they were driving. And John had mentioned that they were going to see a Doctor. She must have thought that was his name. "Doctor who?"

"I rather like that, actually," John stated, rolling on the balls of his feet with a smile, "Doctor who,"

Before the pair could exchange any more words, there was a knock on the doorframe and Martha popped her head in,

"Ello! Just came to check in. Glad to see you're feeling better, love,"

"Much, thank you,"

"How's the headache?"

"Horrible,"

"Good, I'd be worried if it wasn't. My name is Martha Jones, and obviously you've already met Eleven."

"Clara Oswald," Clara smiled as Martha nodded, disappearing from the doorway.

"Oswald?" John couldn't help his blurting out, as his brows fixed into place. He knew an Oswald once, a very perky, slightly flirty Oswald, "you...don't happen to have siblings, do you Clara?"

"Yeah, I do. How'd you know that?"

"I think I...well...I thought your voice sounded familiar on the phone. And now I know why. I must have met you sister. Oswin, yeah?"

"Talk about a small world." Clara seemed intrigued as she leaned forward on her crossed knees, "I haven't seen Oswin myself in a good few years. When did you meet her?"

"A little while back. I decided I wanted to rough it, and took a trip out to Alaska with some friends of mine. Picked up Oswin's signal on the two way transmitter in my fishing boat. She was good company, very flirty. Kept makin' fun of my chin."

"Yep, that sounds like Oswin. _Alaska_. So that's where she ran off to," Clara rubbed her jaw in thought, "she was a brilliant girl, a genius even in robotics and engineering. But she never really fit in at Uni. Wanted to see things, to travel. She hooked a job with the DALEK Company in America and practically vanished. Haven't talked to her since,"

"Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes." Clara shrugged and tucked some hair behind her ear, biting her lip, "sometimes it feels like she wasn't even real. Like she was just an echo in my life, created so I wouldn't be lonely...oh my god, I'm sorry," Clara laughed lightly and shook her head, "I shouldn't be bothering you with this sappy stuff."

"No, no. It's no trouble at all. Sometimes I wish my siblings would just _go away_. It's not easy being a child of 13,"

"13? You're kidding, aren't you?"

"Nope," John popped the 'p' in his statement as he fell back into the office chair with a grunt, "and we all share the same name. It's a long story, that one,"

"Wait, so let me get this clear. You have 13 siblings, and all of them are named John?"

"Yes. That's why we go by numbers. Well, except my sister Sarah Jane. But Jane is a female version of John so I guess the tradition continues,"

"Wow. That's some tradition," Clara ran a hand across the back of her neck. Drinking her in, John couldn't help but notice how pretty she was, with perfectly straight brown hair, angular features and those giant brown eyes. Even so, he could see how tired she looked. After all, unconsciousness wasn't necessarily a restful experience.

"Well, you know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."

Clara turned her head slightly, an eyebrow raising. The way the light from the windows shined on her face softened up her features, and practically made her glow. John couldn't help but smile around Clara, she was perfectly infectious. An Impossible Girl.

"Are you guarding me?"

"Yes." John didn't feel bad admitting it, "Yes, I am. Which is why you should go to sleep. Because you're safe now, I promise," Standing, John gave a small salute and clicked his heels as he walked to the door and flicked off the light, "goodnight, Clara,"

Leaving the room, John stood out in the hall for a few moments, listening. Clara didn't seem to be getting up, perhaps she _did_ go back to sleep? He couldn't find it in him to leave to another part of the house, as his worry still ebbed at him. His thoughts were filled with Clara. Her safety and well-being, her beautiful eyes and smile, her laughter. John shook his head as he observed the carpet under his shoes. Cautiously and as quietly as possible, he turned on a heel and opened the bedroom door again. His original thought had been correct. Clara was hidden in the bed sheets, warm and fast asleep. Smiling and happy that she was ok, John closed the door and shoved both hands into the pockets of his jacket. All he had to do now was find some way to entertain himself until she woke up again. Oh joy.

 **A/N: Hello all! Rose here, back with the beginnings of a new story :) This is basically a retelling of Season 7, but as a Human AU, and with some Whouffle fluff in between. There will probably be some mutual Whoffauldi/Alloswin friendship in this story as well at some point. And I know that Human AU's have already been done (it's certainly not new) but I wanted to take a stab at it myself. Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoyed this amazingly long chapter (they won't all be this long I hope), and until next time! Geronimo!**


	2. Chapter 2

The Bells of St. John Pt.2

"Here we are again, Clara! Safe and sound."

John swung the TARDIS expertly into the driveway of the Maitland residence, smiling broadly as he did so. Putting her in park, John sighed in content and turned to his newest companion. Clara was sitting beside him, though her face had lost some of its colour and she was quivering; staring ahead as though they hadn't yet stopped moving. Smiling even wider and laughing, John reached over, manually unclasping the young woman's fingers from around the edges of her seat.

"I-is it over, Doctor?" Clara's voice was slightly exasperated as she turned to look at John, "you're a maniac,"

"I didn't think my driving was that awful,"

"We ran three stop signs on our way here,"

"A new record," John teased, not missing how Clara had called him Doctor. He rather liked the odd name; it was nice to be addressed as something other than his given birth number, "come on, Clara. It wasn't that bad,"

"Yes...yes it was," Clara's tone was breathless, but her grin betrayed her as she unbuckled and exited the TARDIS. John - The Doctor - almost thought she was going to kiss the ground, but she restrained from doing so and instead crossed the drive towards the front door. She halted however and turned when John didn't follow her. Jogging back to his side of the car, Clara leaned against the front fender, "are you coming?"

"Coming? Inside you mean? Oh I...well I just thought…"

"You're welcome to come in, Doctor. We'll have some tea, yeah? It's the least I can do for you. I uh...also still need help with my computer," Clara looked a little flustered at that last part as John blinked, then nodded happily. Anything to spend more time with Clara was good enough for him. That, and it was his job to make this house call, even though it didn't exactly go as planned the first time round. Patting the steering wheel of the TARDIS fondly, John unbuckled and exited the car. Standing beside Clara, who he now realized was teeny-tiny compared to him, she nodded and turned, walking back to the house. Only, she stopped as she reached the doorknob, face pale,

"Clara? Is everything alright? Are you sick?"

"No. I don't have my keys. They are probably still inside, shoot…"

"No need to worry, Clara," John grinned knowingly as a slightly panicked Clara froze,

"Why?"

"I never know why," John pulled the silver house key from inside his pocket, folding it gently into Clara's open palm, "I only know who,"

"You…" Clara blinked and closed her fist around the key, a slight colour coming to her cheeks, "are so incredibly cheesy,"

"Cheesy," John repeated, only to shake his head and frown as Clara unlocked the front door, "wait. That's good, yeah?"

Clara answered with a giggle as she let John in. Carefully, he removed his shoes and set them by the door, watching in awe as Clara strutted in comfortably, kicking off her own boots and falling face first onto the sofa with a long groan.

"My computer is upstairs in my bedroom, last door on the right." Clara mumbled through a curtain of hair, motioning lazily with her fingers towards the stairs, "I'll make us some tea."

"Righto, boss!"

"I'm the boss?" Clara sat up with a lifted eyebrow as John clasped his mouth shut, puffing up his cheeks and straightening his bow tie,

"I well...not...I mean...shut up!"

Laughing at his expense, John turned and headed up the stairs, ignoring the vision of Clara's body crumpled down at the bottom of them as he grunted. Clara was perfectly alright. Her head had a scratch in it, and she was still slightly groggy, but that was it. Her life wasn't in any sort of danger. He just needed to stop worrying. And so he did, focusing instead on finding the turquoise colored laptop still sitting where Clara had left it on the desk. Before sitting down to work though, John couldn't help but take a peek around. He wasn't one to be nosy, but he still knew very little about Clara Oswald.

The attic room itself looked makeshift; there were still boxes piled up against the walls, probably never to be unpacked. Something must have happened suddenly, a death in the family perhaps? Letting his eyes trail across things, John smiled at the photos on the walls. Pictures of little Clara, nestled happily between her two parents. Eventually though her mum was no longer in the pictures. John would need to remember to keep away from that subject. Then there was a bookcase, filled with lots of different titles. Kneeling down, John picked up the one that looked the most worn. It was a blue colored book, with many bookmarks sticking out of it. 101 Places to See. Opening the cover, John flipped through, smiling at the illustrations. The very front page had the name Ellie Oswald written in pen, then Clara's name written in pencil right under it, as well as a long list of ages, which ended at 24.

Also nestled in the front of the book was a single pressed maple leaf. It looked well loved, the tips flaking off here and there from fingers as John gently lifted the leaf by the stem, smelling it. Then, out of pure compulsion, he gave the leaf a lick. It didn't taste good. Bad choice. Putting the leaf back and sliding the novel back into its place, John turned and headed to the desk, sitting down and opening the laptop.

"Find anything?"

Clara's voice startled him as John glanced up. His companion was holding a thermos, as well as two cups, "what's that look for?"

"Look?" John shook the look of wonder off his face, "there's no look,"

"Uh huh, you're being weird," Clara merely smiled, pouring John tea as he surfed about her laptop, setting up necessary things like cyber protection and the clock. The last thing he needed to do was connect to the WiFi.

"That's funny," John didn't mean to say it out loud of course, but his eyes narrowed at the WiFi settings on the laptop. There was the Maitland family WiFi of course, but there was also another one. Something already unlocked as well as unfamiliar. It gave John the chills just looking at it.

"What's funny?" Clara pulled up a folding chair and sat down heavily as John grunted in focus,

"This WiFi hook up here,"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Not sure." John steered his mouse away from the connection out of habit. Never click on weird internet things, that was his top motto. "But I don't like it. Never click on this, ok?"

"Alright." Clara didn't even bother complaining, sipping her tea as John clicked on the correct WiFi router,

"I don't know your password. Do you know it?"

"Oh! Angie told me it before she left...uhhh…" Clara scrunched up her face in thought, tapping her forehead lightly with a closed fist, "run…"

John's head shot up slightly as Clara snapped her fingers in quick unison as she brought back memories which had no doubt been knocked out her,

"Run you clever boy and remember,"

"What did you say?"

John turned fully to stare at Clara. She had mumbled that phrase in her dreams, he heard her say it. That wasn't just her subconsciously remembering a WiFi password, was it?

"It's just a...a thing, to help me remember the password. Run you clever boy and remember. RYCBAR123."

"Right, right," John nodded absent mindedly, typing in the correct password as the WiFi connected, "and there you go, all ready for use Miss Oswald. Remember to do monthly scans for viruses and such by pressing on this button here," John pointed at a little castle right by the WiFi button, "and you should be all set. Anything else I can do for you?"

"I might need your number," Clara said with a smirk, "just in case I have problems again?"

"Of course, how unprofessional of me," John snorted as he scribbled his personal number onto a sticky note, "there. But you shouldn't be cooped up in here all day anyway, Clara. You should be out doing...well, young things, with young people."

"What, like you? Down boy."

Clara's eyes crinkled just so as John flushed deeply. Clara, a truly impossible girl indeed.

"That's not what I meant," John insisted, pointing a finger as Clara's phone began to ring. Blinking, she rolled her eyes and left to fetch it off the nightstand. Watching her from a distance, John wanted nothing more then to give her everything he had. There was just something about Clara Oswald that drew him in. She was like gravity, always there, strong and pulling him closer no matter how hard he tried to distance himself.

"Hello?" Clara held the phone delicately, only for her to hang up a few seconds later with a rapid tap of a button,

"Who was that?"

"Some sort of survey I think. I just ignore them. Anyway John, thank you so much for today. I think this has been...well, a very interesting Wednesday. I don't want to keep you any longer getting home, it's already dark."

"It was no trouble," John smiled and lifted his hand, walking with Clara back downstairs as they parted at the doorway, "I really hope we can do this again? I mean...not falling down the stairs...but maybe just a cuppa or something...sometime…"

"I'd like that. It should be on a Wednesday," Clara nodded seriously as John laughed along with her, surprised as he was suddenly hammered with a hug. They had just met today, and yet Clara was hugging him. Hugging. Carefully, as to not get it wrong, John closed his arms around Clara's shoulders, hugging her back. As they seperated, John leaned in and kissed her forehead. It was impulsive, almost instinctive really, and John regretted it the minute he did it. But Clara didn't seem to mind, accepting the token of affection with fluttering lashes as she smiled,

"Goodnight John," She mumbled, waving at him from the doorway as they finally took a few steps from one another,

"Goodnight, Clara,"

Nodding, John swung himself around, practically skipping back to the TARDIS. Clara didn't close the front door till he was halfway out of the driveway, and soon the Maitland home was no longer in sight as John drove himself home in bliss. Even so, something important was nagging at the back of his mind, something which he couldn't quite. Even the ride home did nothing to clear his mind as John parked the TARDIS. Beside him, a shiny grey and blue police cruiser sat. Twelve was home. Which meant it really was late at night. Groaning at the thought of his older brother, John ran a hand through his hair.

Twelve was only older than him by a good year, yet was already completely grey. Mum and dad called him the 'grunge child', as he was always finding some way to make himself cooler then he actually was. Playing electric guitar, having tattoos, wearing idiotic black shades all the time. So it came as a surprise when he got a job as a head investigator with a branch of the Government known as UNIT. Something about special 'undercover' cases which the public don't need to hear about ever. Of course Twelve wasn't good at keeping anything secret, in fact John wondered if he knew how to keep this thoughts and opinions to himself. So as John walked through the door, he wasn't at all surprised to find Twelve wide awake, staring at an evidence board which he had set up in the living room.

"Ah! Eleven, just in time," Twelve turned gracefully on a heel and grabbed John by the hand, practically dragging him to the board, "what do you see?"

"Paperwork?"

"No, no, mush brain. Tell me what you see in the paperwork. Go on, take a look,"

Eleven groaned and rolled his eyes, but did take some curiosity on the papers on the board. They were all case files, recent disappearances in London. John knew about the recent surge of disappearances of course, but he never took much interest in the media as they had a tendency to exaggerate. But apparently it was bad enough for UNIT to be involved, meaning it was probably bigger than John originally thought, "well?"

"Electronics," John finally answered, standing back, "all of the disappearances took place where some sort of electronic was present. Offices, homes, coffee shops."

"Yes! Bing bang, that's exactly what I needed. A fresh pair of eyes," Twelve clapped his hands, and stuck a red pin into the board excitedly, "now we're getting somewhere,"

John merely rolled his eyes, only to stop as he zoned in on something hidden on the board. Lunging for it, John looked at the slightly crumpled note card which he had found, frowning. It was a bunch of symbols...John knew these symbols. "A message written by one of the victims, left behind at the scene." Twelve mumbled in explanation, thought John was more interested in the symbols themselves. That's what he'd been thinking about all night long. The weird wifi connection on Clara's computer.

"What if it's the WiFi?"

"Hmm?" Twelve looked up from his pacing, silver eyes curious as John twiddled with his fingers,

"WiFi, it's in almost every electronic. What if whoever this kidnapper is...is finding their people through the WiFi? Active GPS. Once it's in there, it's like-like a virus, it gets stuck and it can track you wherever you are…"

"That's brilliant! Brilliant!" Twelve continued to shift his board using new information as John scanned the victims again. All of them were quite young, none of them surpassed 30. Clever, the lot of them. Good GPAs, Colleges and Transcripts it seemed. John continued to stare, only to rocket from his place as his phone began to ring. Calming himself by holding his chest, John coughed and held the mobile to his ear,

"John Smith,"

"J-John, it's Clara," Clara's voice was nothing short of a whisper, causing the young man on the phone to be on immediate alert. Something was wrong.

"Clara? What's wrong?"

"There are men here, John," Clara rasped, "they've been circling the house,"

"Are you safe? Clara, tell me you're safe,"

"I'm h-hiding in the closet, upstairs." there was a sound of shattering glass in the background as Clara whimpered into the phone, breathing quickly, "they are in the house, John, oh my god, they are in the house."

"Clara don't move, don't move! I'm coming! Don't hang up,"

"I can get you there faster," Twelve stated, not even knowing what the conversation was as John followed the man out to his police cruiser, holding tightly to his phone as Twelve turned on his lights and siren and shredded down the street at an ungodly speed. Though it all, John listened to Clara's breathing and gave Twelve silent directions, her soft sobbing almost inaudible as he whispered soothing words to her over the phone.

"J-John, I think they're coming upstairs!"

"Clara, just be as quiet as you can, we're almost there…"

His words were cut off as Clara screamed suddenly, causing him to jerk forward in panic, "Clara! Clara!"

Her screams continued before the line went completely dead, John's hands shaking in panic as he turned to Twelve, "they've got her. They have Clara,"

"Not if I've got anything to say about it," the man hissed, squealing his tires as he pushed the accelerator even faster. As they approached the Maitland house, a pitch black SUV was pulling out, trying to make a run for it. Foot still on the accelerator, John held on tightly and squeezed his eyes shut as Twelve pulled about expertly, crunching the front fender and wheel of the van, causing it to skid out of control. As the van stopped, Twelve exited the car, drawing his gun from his belt with intensity. Two men had already jumped ship and were running, while the driver was unconscious against the wheel, "and that is why you always wear a seatbelt," Twelve mumbled, holstering his weapon as John jogged up beside him, "get the girl, I'll get the driver,"

John could only nod as he ran to the already open side of the car, grabbing the door frame and sighing in relief. Clara was curled up on the floor, her face hidden in her arms, her entire body quaking with terror.

"Clara? Clara it's…"

John didn't even need to say his name before Clara was clinging onto him, sobbing her brains out as he held her tightly, stroking her hair,

"It was so scary, John. I-I thought…"

"Shhh, shhh Clara, it's ok now. You're safe." hauling the girl into his arms like he had that very morning, John carried Clara back to the police cruiser. By now, several other police officers had arrived and were taping off the scene, while curious neighbors look out their windows at the commotion. Setting Clara down in the back seat of the open police car, John just held her, waiting for Twelve to return,

"This is just what we needed," the grey man stated, approaching John and Clara after a long conversation with several other officers, "one member of the kidnapping ring is in custody. It's all we need to shut this thing down. For good."

"So...do you know anything about it?"

"The van is registered to a company called the SHARD. We've had problems with them in the past; shading business dealings and what not. Never thought they'd stoop so low as to infecting the WiFi and kidnapping though."

"What were they doing, to the people they took I mean?"

"Don't know," Twelve glanced down at Clara, who was peeking at him through a curtain of hair, "I don't think I want to know. And I don't think you need to know. Now take the girl back to the house, mush brain. I'll have to come and interview her…"

"Not so soon." John complained, looking down as Clara unclenched her hands from his jacket. She looked significantly less frightened, through her eyes were still puffy and red,

"Honestly how do you do that with the eyes," Twelve mumbled out loud, "it's like they inflate,"

"Twelve…"

John was cut off as Clara actually giggled a bit at the comment, causing Twelve's hard lip to twitch ever so slightly. That was a rarity in it's own right, and just more proof that Clara Oswald was an impossible girl. If anyone could get the grey man to smile, it would certainly be someone like Clara. Squeezing her shoulders, the woman managed a small smile in return as Twelve made a gagging noise in his throat, and tossed John the keys.

"Girl home, now. Do as you're told."

John suppressed his urge to stick out his tongue as Twelve marched away,

"He's a charming one, ain't he," Clara mumbled, wiping at her nose as John sighed and shook his head, "is your entire family as...interesting, as this?"

"You don't even know the half of it Clara Oswald," John side hugged the woman tighter as they basked in the glow of yellow flashing lights, "you have no idea."

 **A/N: Hello all! Well, I said my chapters wouldn't be as long. I lied. This chapter is almost a thousand more words then the other, which I did not mean to do at all! Anyway, I actually had a really interesting time figuring out how to incorporate Twelve into the story, as well as how to end this chapter, as walking base stations and anti-grav motorbikes didn't seem to fit. So I thought some good action would be a fresh breath of wind for us all. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Up next : The Rings of Akhaten.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Rings Of Akhatan

John was running late. He wasn't exponentially late or anything, he actually kept time rather well considering. But he was a good 15 or so minutes behind schedule. Swinging the TARDIS into the already familiar Maitland driveway, two faces were peering down from one of the upper windows, a girl and a boy. The girl John knew as Angie, as he had talked with her briefly on the phone last Wednesday. The boy he suspected was her brother Artie, back from the trip with Mr. Maitland no doubt. John was so busy staring at the children, that he almost missed Clara, who had come out of the house and was making her way down the driveway.

John had told her to dress nice, but not to formally. Even so, she was decked to the heavens in a neat navy dress, hidden under a black leather jacket. A red book bag was slung across her shoulders, and her already pretty hair was curled ever so slightly at the tips. She was even wearing a bit of makeup, though only enough to accentuate her already gorgeous features. Shaking his head with a smile, Clara plopped into the TARDIS,

"You're late,"

"Only by a little while," John complained, straightening out his bow tie in the rear view mirror, "what do you think? To much?"

John had chosen to wear his favorite purple tweed jacket over a white shirt, and his usual suspenders. A little old fashioned perhaps, but it was certainly comfortable.

"It's charming," Clara said, taking in John's appearance with a smirk as he nodded, and shredded out of the driveway. Once on the road, Clara finally had the nerve to ask the question which John had been avoiding, "so, where are we going?"

"You don't want to keep it a surprise?"

"No. I want to know where we're going! I've been thinking about it all week."

It was true. After everything that had happened last Wednesday, John felt exponentially bad for all the horrible things he had caused (even though none of it was _really_ his fault). So after Clara felt more settled into her routine again, he invited her out with him on _this_ Wednesday.

"I promised you a perfectly _normal_ evening this time," John stated, tapping the steering wheel with his thumbs hopefully. He wanted tonight to be perfect, after all he didn't want to disappoint his Impossible Girl.

"Who said I wanted normal?"

"Says me, that's who," John insisted, "there's already been to much excitement around here for my taste."

"Really? I thought you liked adventure, Doctor. Especially with the way you drive,"

Clara's tone was teasing, but John couldn't help the small ache in his heart. Of course he wanted adventure. I mean, who wouldn't? But after all that had happened with River, and then Amy and Rory moving to the States, John couldn't find the spark in him to be spontaneous. That was at least, before he met Clara Oswald.

"I do like a good adventure," John admitted slightly, "but I much prefer my Cloud,"

"Your Cloud?"

"My office. My own little slice of heaven."

"Well you really know how to sulk, don't you?"

"It's not sulking." John retorted, "it's a living. Kinda like your job as a Nanny. Can't imagine you want to be stuck doing _that_ the rest of your life?"

"Oh, spoken like a man." Clara scoffed slightly and threw her hair over one shoulder, though there was a slight tug at her lip, betraying her seriousness in the matter, "sweet little Clara, can't even handle a real job. Well I'll tell you, _mister_ that I'm not sweet, and I'm certainly not...little?"

Clara's words trailed off as John pulled into the Rings of Akhatan Opera House. It was brand new, still gleaming gold with cleanliness as other show goers meandered about, chatting outside the doors or in the parking lot. Pulling into a spot, Clara turned on John, her eyes wide,

"What...is this?"

"Something awesome," John pulled two white tickets from his interior pocket, holding them out, "one of the youngest Opera Singers in history is singing tonight. My brother had tickets and I...well I conned then off him. _But,_ I thought this would be a fun thing for us to do...together...tonight?"

Clara said nothing, only turned to look at the glorious building out the back window of the car. If John didn't know any better, he would have thought she was looking at the different planet, based on the way her eyes watered,

"Can...can we go in? You know, up close?"

Nodding slightly, John held out his hand as Clara took it with a bright grin, squeezing his fingers before unbuckling and practically leaping from the TARDIS. Following her lead, John locked up the old girl, watching his new companion practically skip towards the Opera house in awe and wonder. Her large eyes reflected the golden lights, causing them to shine like pools of molten metal, and her smile was contagious as she hooked onto John's elbow, keeping close to him as they moved towards the building.

"Look at all these people," she breathed, admiring the smartly dressed men in tuxes, and the women's beautiful beaded gowns, "blimey, I thought you said to dress semi-formally? I feel horribly underdressed,"

"You look beautiful, Clara. Just the way you are," John said, instantly regretting it as Clara snorted slightly at the cheesy comment, "that was cheesy."

"Yes it was. But thank you anyway,"

Clara patted John's hand as he blushed slightly, nodding at the doormen who opened the grand glass sliders as they passed into the Rings of Akhaten. It was truly a spectacular building, with shining marble floors covered in red runners, and large pillared walls which reached all the way up to a grand balcony. Thick red curtains were draped across every surface, accentuated in gold. And above, hanging from the ceiling, was a beautiful sculpture of Saturn. "What is that?" Clara seemed in awe of the beautiful piece of artwork as John hummed in his throat,

"That is Saturn. And this art piece probably represents the old story, about how all of life was formed by the scattering Saturn's ring dust into the heavens,"

"All life? Created by dust?"

"That's right. It's an old story, not as popular as it used to be what with the Big Bang and all that. _But_ still a neat concept. I read the brochure."

Clara laughed slightly and slapped John's chest with the back of her hand, glancing one last time at the sculpture before allowing her eyes to roam elsewhere. For opening night, several vendors had been allowed into the main foyer, selling or auctioning things for charity. Walking beside his companion, John put coins into the 'Technology & Space' jar hosted by the Uni, while Clara put some into the 'Books for a Cause', hosted by the local kids club. There was even a motorbike up for auction, though John had a hard time believing the seller was truly reputable. After browsing for a little while longer, John left Clara by the staircase, kissing her forehead gently,

"I'll go get us some drinks,"

He then walked off, not realizing that Clara had already gotten distracted by something else and wandered off. After about two or three moments waiting in line at the open bar, he returned to the staircase with two flukes of sparkling apple juice (neither of them were fans of alcohol). Clara was nowhere to be found. His heart jumping in his chest, John whipped around in a panic. What if she got taken again? What if the SHARD had been following them this entire time and waited till she was alone to snatch her! Paling at the thought, John set down the drink flukes, ascending the staircase a bit to get a better look at the main foyer. His eyes furiously scanning, relief flooded through him as he spotted Clara at the far end of the room. She looked to be holding a little girl in a red dress by the hand, passing her off two two of the security officers as they whisked her through a side door.

"Clara!"

Jogging through the crowds of people who were filing into the main auditorium for the show, John met with his companion, "Clara, don't do that! I thought...I mean...you…" John couldn't get his words out right as Clara smiled gently at him,

"You shouldn't worry so much about me, John. I can handle myself,"

"I know you can, Clara. I know, but I just...can't help it. I don't want anything to happen to you,"

"I'll be alright," Clara patted John's cheek with a hand, before intertwining her fingers with his, "so, where are we sitting?"

"In the balcony." John replied, walking with Clara up the main staircase again, "my good ole' brother had box seats,"

"Oh, fancy man," Clara smirked slightly as John handed their tickets to a man in a suit, who then led them to a special set of seats. They were private, only a few rows of five in the box. A few others were already seated in the back row, and John led Clara to the front, against the railing. The main auditorium was just as grand as the foyer, overlooking the stage and the hundreds of seats below them. The walls were painted to look like galaxies, and the ceiling was completely made of glass, "this place is truly amazing, John," Clara breathed, leaning forward on her hands as the lights flickered, signaling five minutes till show,

"Isn't it? Merry Gejelh is supposed to be quite astounding,"

"She seemed like an astounding girl," Clara mumbled, causing John to lift a brow, "I met her, she was out in the foyer, hiding,"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. She was afraid of getting her songs wrong, poor thing. I can't imagine what it's like, having to do this so little," Clara frowned slightly, her eyes shimmering as the lights dimmed, "But I think she'll get her songs very right,"

John hummed again and nodded, sitting back with his hands in his lap as the curtains opened and the show began. Merry's voice truly was astounding for such a young girl, even though the language in which she sung was foreign. Fighting his urge to wrap an arm around Clara's shoulders (he really didn't like having his hands in his lap), John leaned over to her,

"She's singing about the birth and life of a god," he mumbled, Clara's eyes still fixated on the stage as a tear slipped down the curve of her cheek, "she's calling out to him, and his powers, to keep her people safe."

"It's really something, isn't it?"

John had to agree. Though he had never really found a fondness in the Opera, he could at least respect a great talent when he saw one. That, and Clara seemed to be absolutely enamored, her face completely focused on the stage as she listened to each part of the _very_ long song with great attention. John himself felt his eyes drooping shut. After all, the auditorium was very warm, and the scent of Clara's perfume was….no, no. John shook that odd thought away as he let his eyes close, only to have them snap open again a few moments later. The beautiful music had stopped suddenly. Sitting up, John observed the girl on the stage. She looked very frightened, her mouth slightly open like more words were supposed to come out, when none did. No one else seemed to notice though, as the hall broke into clapping. But John knew, and apparently Clara did as well as her face was completely pale. Watching, the little girl ran off the stage quickly, no doubt in tears, as Clara stood suddenly,

"I have to find her,"

"What?"

"Poor Merry. I promised her she wouldn't forget. Now I look like a liar. I have to find her, she's probably heart broken."

John wanted to protest, he wanted to stay out of it. But that wasn't his way. He didn't just _walk away._ Taking Clara by the hand, John pulled her from the box. Slamming into the banister of the balcony outside, they were just in time to see a small figure in a red dress bolt out the doors at a breakneck speed,

"She's too fast. She'll be halfway to London by the time we reach her,"

Glancing around, John's eyes landed on the motorbike. Patting himself, he had no money or anything on him. Turning to Clara, she looked up at him with a broken expression,

"Do you have anything valuable on you?"

"What?"

"Valuables? Something which could sell for decent money. I think I have an idea to get us a pair of wheels, but I need something to barter with."

Clara looked thoughtful for a moment, before her eyes drifted down to her fingers. Clara wore many rings, but the one she took in her fingers was made of pure silver, and had a rather large diamond in it,

"It was my mothers," she mumbled, feeling the smooth edge with a hand before quickly removing it from her finger and handing it to John, "do it,"

Nodding, John pounded down the steps of the Opera house, calling to the man in charge of the motorbike in rapid fire Spanish. They exchanged for a short moment before John held up the ring and gave a ridiculous selling price. The owner of the motorbike was either dreamy eyed about a fortune, or simply didn't care as he snatched up the ring, and motioned to the motorbike with a toothy grin. Soon enough, he and Clara were zooming up and down the dark street, looking for Merry with the headlight,

"I can't see her!" Clara cried desperately,

"Keep looking, she can't have gone that far!" John swerved around slightly, the bike purring under his touch as he glanced sideways to Clara. He could feel her soft hands gripping around his waist, while her weight shifted this way and that as she looked for the lost girl. Eventually, her breath caught and her arm flew out,

"There!"

Squinting in the dim streetlights, John could see a red figure weaving in and out of parked cars ahead. Pushing the throttle, the bike gave a jump as he skidded sideways to a stop. Clara leapt from behind him, running towards Merry who was hardly traveling as quickly as before. Grabbing her by the waist, the girl gave a cry as Clara held her close. Parking the motorbike, John dismounted but kept his distance, flitting about nervously in the shadows as his companion worked to calm down the sobbing girl.

"Y-you said I wouldn't get it wrong," she blubbered weakly, wiping at her eyes as Clara kept a firm grip on her shoulders, "you lied, you lied. I got it wrong, and now grandfather is going to be angry,"

"You didn't get it wrong, Merry." Clara insisted softly, using the edge of her sleeve to wipe at the girls face, "you sang so beautifully. I'm sure no one even noticed,"

"B-but grandfather...he'll be upset. He always wants me to be perfect,"

"Your grandfather is a parasite," John spoke up, stepping up beside Clara as he brushed her shoulder, "he's using you."

"John…"

"She needs to know this, Clara." John insisted hotly, "listen to me, Merry. You don't have to give into him. All of those people out there? They loved every minute of you. Your grandfather doesn't even know what he has,"

"You...you think so?" Merry sniffled as John smiled,

"Sure do. And you know what, you should never be scared of getting it wrong, because I believe what Clara said. You will always get it right."

Merry smiled slightly as John adjusted his bow tie.

"Always remember Merry, that the past is in the past. This is _one single moment_ , only one compared to the infinite numbers of moments you still have to discover,"

"That's right. There's only so much of one, but an infinity of the other. Does that seem like enough to you?"

Merry giggled and nodded her head as Clara hoisted the girl up into her arms, smiling,

"Now, how bout we get back to the theater, and you can start using up all of those infinite moments, ey?"

John couldn't help the warmth in his heart as Merry squeezed Clara tightly. After a long walk (motorbike and all), John was once again standing at the base of the steps in the foyer, drinking the now flat sparkling apple juice left over from concessions. Clara was chatting animatedly to a finely dressed man and woman, and Merry stood between them, beaming with pride. When the little girl's eyes caught onto his though, she bounded over quickly, and tugged at the edge of his jacket. Kneeling down so they were eye to eye, Merry giggled,

"Are you going to get married?"

The question caught John off guard as he sputtered, half out of shock and half out of laughter as he cleared his throat,

"Ah, no...not planning on anything soon."

"You should be married, like my mummy and daddy are," Merry seemed certain as she nodded rapidly, "I know these things,"

"Do you now?" John wiped his bottom lip with a sleeve as Merry giggled and skipped off, giving Clara one last hug before she jumped happily into her mother's arms and they wandered off. 'Grandfather' was nowhere in sight, thank goodness. And as Clara returned to him, looking slightly windswept, she sighed and shoved both hands into her pockets,

"Will I ever have a regular day out with you, Doctor?"

"It seems not," John took another sip of his cider, "regular is overrated anyway. Oh, I have something for you, before I forget,"

John dug into his pocket, pulling out Clara's ring, "I uh, bartered it back for you."

"Oh John…" Clara shakily took the ring, smiling as she kissed it's diamond before slipping it back onto her finger, "what about the motorbike? You seemed so fond of it,"

"Nah, the TARDIS would get jealous I think," holding out an elbow, John nodded to Clara, "shall we go home?"

Giggling at the formalness, Clara nodded and looped her arm though John's happily,

"I think so. How does a few movies on the telly sound? And a good cup of tea?"

"I think you read my mind, Miss Oswald." John smiled and placed a solid kiss on Clara's forehead. _Anything to stay close to you is fine by me._

 **A/N: Look at that! Episode 2 complete! Honestly, there was a lot of plot in this episode which I couldn't include. I found it really hard to work around that and make this semi-believable. Hopefully it came out alright though XD. Anyway, up next : Cold War. Feel free to like and review! Cheers mates!**


	4. Chapter 4

Cold War

"Everything alright out there, Clara?!" John's voice barely cut through the rushing wind and the crisp autumn air. His hand was clutching onto the throttle of a motorboat, _his_ motorboat, and John could feel his hair whipping about harshly. Droplets of ice water stung his face as they chopped through the waters of Cold War Lake, with no particular destination in mind.

"It's wonderful, Doctor! I feel like I'm flying!"

Clara's figure was at the bow of the vessel, hanging off the front end as her long hair tossed about her head, the girls eyes closed as the chill lake water caused her cheeks to grow a rosy pink. It had been _her_ idea to come out on the lake after the book signing at the local Pub, and though John originally had a bad feeling about the journey, he was having one hell of a time now. Steering the boat meticulously through the slight curl of whitewater, Clara laughed in joy and excitement, turning around and sitting with her back to the bow.

She looked beautiful in a satin dress, which was now dark with water, and her ponytail had turned to sharp ringlets which bounced about her face as she crawled back to the stern. Plopping down beside him, John continued to steer through the slight sheen of heavy fog which had fallen across the water,

"I've never been on a boat before," Clara admitted, swiping some moisture from her brow, "it's fantastic,"

"I haven't been out in this in in a long time," John admitted. His boat wasn't all that grand, really. It had a metal body, which was cold and clanged whenever something happened to slam against it. The inside was just benches, and in the back, a V6 motor that was older then he. But it still chugged along the lakes surface with ease, bouncing along like it was still young, "I used to fish,"

"You don't anymore?"

"No," John felt suddenly downcast. He hadn't taken the boat out since his last day with the Ponds. He missed them dearly, just as dearly as he missed River. Even so, John couldn't stay unhappy for long, as he was with Clara. _His_ Impossible Girl. After all, there was no point in living in the past when there was still an uncountable amount of moments to have in the future.

"John, I think someone else is coming through the fog."

Blinking out of his thoughts, John let off the motor a bit, feeling the boat lurch as it came to a stall in the water. In the silence the sound of another motor could be heard, chopping right towards them. Having a suddenly bad feeling about the situation, John tried to start the motor back up to flee, only for it to cough and sputter. Strike that last thought about it being dependable,

"Oh, Dalek's," John grabbed the pull string and heaved it a few times, only to jerk his head upwards as Clara let out a startled yelp. A large hook had nearly impaled her. Had she not scrambled to one side, she would have had a significant bruise in a not very comfortable place. Jostling as the rope attached to the hook tightened, their boat began to drift as Clara hobbled to John's side of the boat, grabbing his arm as he continued to pull at the motor, praying for it to turnover. It didn't though, merely coughed in anguish as another dark shape appeared through the fog.

"We could jump?"

Clara glaced at the blackwater wearily as John shook his head,

"We're already to far from shore. And you'd probably freeze before you even got close," John admitted,

"Paddles?"

"Gone. Broken years ago,"

"Anything?" Clara's voice had gone up in pitch slightly as another motorboat came into view, holding several dark figures, "anything at all?"

Before John could respond, the other boat bumped into theirs. It was slightly larger, and held four people inside. All of them were men, older looking and droopy eyed. John couldn't tell if they were friendly or not, as they said nothing as two of the men boarded their vessel. John was so preoccupied by this he almost missed Clara, who lost her balance on the bench and tumbled back first overboard.

"Clara!" lunging for her, John felt his arms being grabbed by one of the men from the other boat, "Clara! Help her, dammit she's not coming up!"

John continued to thrash as one of the strangers looked at him in a funny way, then shed his jacket, reaching a hand into the water where Clara had fallen in. It only took a moment for her body to be hauled back aboard. She was shivering and unresponsive as John rapidly shooed off the hands on his arms, grabbing onto his companion instead. Her lips were a pale shade as her eyelashes fluttered, and her teeth chattered as John pulled her in, trying to warm her.

"'ere."

The man who had gone after Clara spoke up, nearly giving John a heart attack as the strangers large jacket was draped over Clara's quaking shoulders, "it's good,"

The voice of the man was heavily accented as John pulled the jacket all the way around his impossible girl, trying to give her as much heat of his own as possible. Why couldn't they ever have a regular Wednesday out? Eyeing the two men now in his boat, John jerked again as the other vessel started up its motor, pulling the stalled one along behind it as they cut quietly across the lake. John wanted to yell, or at least ask why they had been so suddenly boarded by these strangers. But he had a feeling none of them spoke fluent english, let alone enough to give him a full rundown on what was going on. John wasn't relaxed, but he wasn't all that startled either as it seemed none of the men were armed. They only carried flashlights, and the clothes on their backs. And as they gently moved along towards an obscure shoreline, Clara stirred,

"You ok Clara?"

"...think so? What'd I miss?"

"We were being boarded,"

"Oh? What happened?"

"We _go_ t boarded," John didn't miss the adorable bewildered expression which flicked across Clara's features as she shook her head,

"No no, what's happening now, I mean?"

"Oh, we're being taken to shore I think. I'm not exactly sure where,"

Just as John said this, the two boats reached a small wooden dock. Despite the heavy fog, there were lights glimmering not far away.

"Out,"

The man who lent Clara his jacket was already out of the boat, his dark eyes shadowy in the quickly falling darkness as John swallowed and nodded, assisting Clara out first before following close behind. It felt good to be on land again, after what felt like hours of being in the boat. Of course the hijacking itself only took a few minutes, but it certainly _felt_ a lot longer. Shaking his head, John kept his companion close to him as the men guided them from the dock and up the narrow path. This revealed a rather large cabin, painted to look like the scenery and partially hidden by a thicket of trees. Thankfully, the heating was working fine as they were escorted inside, out of the quickly dropping temperature. Inside the cabin was a different story. Many figures were in the main room, sitting behind open laptops and wearing earsets. At the center of it all was a taller man with a white coloured beard, and focused eyes. He was staring out one of the windows, only turning when one of the men tapped his shoulder and spoke in what John could identify as Russian. The man, the captain of this little get together, turned and stared at them for a long while, frowning.

"You certainly aren't convicts,"

The phrase caught John off guard, as he blinked in confusion,

"Uh, no."

"Search them. Just to be sure," the man waved a hand as John stiffened. And as John and Clara were pushed back to back and patted down by men from the group (John was surprised Clara didn't bite anyone's hand off), John couldn't help but wonder what kind of operation they had walked into. It wasn't like anything he had ever experienced before, and it all felt a bit surreal. Deciding there was nothing dangerous on them, the searchers mumbled apologies and left as the Captain sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry about that, kids." He groaned, voice heavily accented like the rest of the men, but still English nonetheless, "we're all a bit on edge here,"

"We can tell," Clara mumbled, pulling the large jacket farther over her shoulders as John placed a hand around her,

"What exactly was the purpose of bringing us here?"

John couldn't help the bite to his tone as the Captain shook his head again, hands held behind his back stiffly,

"That was a precaution. There is an escaped convict running around this side of the lake. We couldn't take any chances,"

"A convict?" Clara seemed to lose more of her color as the bearded man coughed slightly, realizing he had yet to introduce himself,

"My apologies, I am Captain Zhukov, commander of security at the Cold War Detention Facility. These are my men, and they will not harm you. They work under my orders alone,"

"And...you're all hanging around here because?"

"One of our convicts escaped the Cold War facility not a few hours ago. Skaldak was his name, Marshal Skaldak."

"Hey, I know that name," John blurted, blinking as Clara gave him a funny look,

"How?"

"He was in the papers wasn't he? About five years back?"

"Yes." Captain Zhukov turned to glance out the window again, a haunted look in his eyes, "he murdered his own daughter," the Captain stated lowly, like if he said it to loud something would jump out of the walls, "bastard somehow kept the lock of his cell from closing and got out when the guards were in cycle. We've cornered him here, but this forest is so large and he seems to know the area well. But you both should be safe here for the night, I will have some of my men escort you back to the opposite shore in the morning,"

"What?" Clara's weak rasp was slightly squeaky as she looked to the Doctor, "what about the kids? And...and Mr. Maitland? I promised I'd be back in time for Artie's chess match,"

"We'll have to improvise, Clara," John admitted, "I think we best stay here, like the Captain said. Not best to be running around with a madman on the loose,"

"I guess. But…"

"No more buts. You should go sit by the fire, you're still chilled to the bone," John rubbed Clara's arms rapidly as she frowned but didn't fight it, shuffling to sit in a folding chair in front of the fireplace. Turning back to the Captain, John cleared his throat,

"Uhm, if you don't mind, Captain. But I get a bit...oh how do you say, fidgety, without something to occupy my time. Is there anything I could do to assist you?"

About an hour later, John found himself knee deep in wiring and circuits. The Captain's technology was outdated and barely running at all. This gave John all he needed to keep his mind and his hands busy. Every so often he'd check on Clara, who'd taken up a place by the fire and dozed. She would stir sometimes from her sleep, and the Doctor would run a gentle hand across her temple, wishing all of her pain to vanish. He knew that Clara's mother had died, and that it was a topic which often plagued her nightmares. But John could never be to careful. After all, he knew how hard it was to relive awful memories of loss over and over again.

"Captain,"

The voice of one of the men brought John's head out from one of the folding tables. An older man with a shaky disposition and a set of large earmuffs was waving over the Captain with a hand, "I'm picking up a radio signal sir,"

"Two way?"

"Yes sir. Should I patch it through?"

"Yes. Let's see what the bastard is trying to pull."

Nodding his head sharply, the older gentleman flipped a switch, opening the radio waves for communication, "Marshal Skaldak, we've picked up on your signal. Are you ready to surrender?"

" _An honorable man never surrenders._ " The voice of Skaldak was deep and raspy, crackling across the radio. It gave John shivers just listening to it as the man breathed heavily,

"Fine. Then what do you want? You're surrounded out here. No place to hide for long,"

" _I wish to discuss my terms like human beings, Captain. In person."_

"You are hardly in a place to negotiate, Skaldak,"

" _But for now, I hold the higher ground," Skaldak released a heavy, rattling cough, "I want to discuss my terms,_ "

"Very well. I will come to you-"

" _No."_ Skaldak's tone was sharp through the two way, " _You don't think I'm foolish enough to let you come to me? No. There is a girl under your care, Captain. I will speak to her._ "

John felt suddenly sick to his stomach. _Clara._

" _Don't be daft. I'm not sending an untrained civilian to negotiate with a killer_ ,"

"I'll speak to _her_ only, Captain. If not, I will find a way to escape, you can count on it. You have fifteen minutes to decide,"

The radio signal closed suddenly as the cabin fell quiet. Staring at the Captain, John shook his head,

" _No._ "

"We need the man back in custody before he hurts somebody else,"

"And I won't let that somebody be _Clara,"_ John pointed an accusatory finger at the bearded man, "she's under my protection. _My_ responsibility. I refuse to let any harm come to her."

"And I suppose you think you get to speak for me, Doctor,"

Clara's voice caused John to jump slightly. Whipping around on a heel, the small woman was standing right behind him, arms folded, expression cross, "don't I get a say in this?"

"No. I'll go talk to Skaldak, you are staying here,"

"Oi! You heard what the man said. He wants to talk to _me._ I'm pretty sure he won't show up if he knows you're coming. Your chin alone will scare him off,"

John felt suddenly violated, holding his chin in his hand as Clara brushed past him, standing before the Captain with a gleam in her eyes, "what do I need to do?"

"You know I don't like this?" John spoke up, only to grunt as Clara smacked his chest with the back of her hand,

"I don't think you get much of a vote."

John grumbled unhappily as the Captain chuckled, grabbing a pair of headphones being handed to him by one of his men,

"Put these on. We'll hear everything. And if you need intervention, just call out. I'll send some of my men with you, they know Skaldak's last location."

Setting the headphones over her ears, Clara adjusted the mic in front of her lips. It was really quite fetching on her; action ready Clara. John smiled to himself, shuffling his feet awkwardly as Clara patted his shoulder, squeezing it slightly with her small hand,

"I'll be fine, Doctor. I'll be protected out there,"

"Yes. But don't think you're going out there without me. Give me a headset,"

"Doctor-"

"If you're going I'm going," John Insisted, shoving an earpiece into his head, "you're stuck with me,"

Clara's smile betrayed her seriousness as three _armed_ men opened the front door. Nodding, John took hold of Clara's hand, walking with her from the cabin and into the woods. He honestly couldn't believe this was happening to them. It didn't seem moral, or even _legal_ for that matter. But then again, they were out in the middle of nowhere with a group of Russians. They might as well have been in a sinking submarine, because even that seemed to make more sense then what was going on right now. Continuing to walk deeper into the woods and away from rue safety of the cabin, John appreciated their guards a bit more. Soon through, they stopped at the edge of a clearing,

"This was Skaldak's last known location," one of the men said, though it was slow, as he had to choose his words carefully, "he should be there,"

The man pointed a little ways down the path as Clara nodded shakily, her deep breaths fogging up in the air as she gave John's hand a squeeze,

"I'll be ok, Doctor."

"I know you will, Clara. But this is ridiculous,"

"It seems that way, doesn't it," Clara's laugh sounded like bells in the quiet as John leaned down, kissing his companion's forehead firmly,

"Brave heart, Clara. We'll be listening in from here."

Nodding, John felt the small hand leave his as Clara continued on along the path. John sat down behind a thicket of trees, keeping his ears on the radio as the men around him set up with their guns.

' _Marshal Skaldak?'_

Clara's voice came through John's mind suddenly. Thankfully, the Captain had given her a script, but if the negotiation didn't go according to plan, Clara would have to be fast with her tongue, ' _Marshal? My name is Clara! You wanted to speak to me?'_

' _Clara who?'_

Skaldak's voice was just as deep and frightening in the earbud as John tensed. Any sign of trouble and he'd run to her. He'd pull her into his arms and hold her till their heart's beat the same rhythm, he didn't like when she _wasn't_ with him.

' _Clara Oswald, sir. Where are you?'_

' _Does it matter where I am? You are a brave girl Clara Oswald, to come out here and negotiate with a convict,'_

' _Brave heart, Marshal,'_

John cracked a smile, shaking off the moment of slight humor as Clara gasped a little. Skaldak must have revealed himself, ' _y-you said you wanted to negotiate your terms. Well...l-let's negotiate,'_

' _The Captain won't negotiate with me,'_ Skaldak said sharply, ' _he is not a good man, Clara Oswald. It's been five years since I had my daughter at my side. And I'm no closer than I was to finding her killer.'_

' _You're...saying you didn't kill her?'_

' _No. No I would never hurt her...never. She stood by me, always. We sang songs together during stormy nights. She was my baby girl. Yet I was accused of killing her, taking prison time for her real murderer,'_

' _So why am I here then, if we aren't going to negotiate?'_

' _I wish to speak to someone with full discretion, someone who will hear me,'_

There was a crackle and a gasp as Clara's headset suddenly went quiet. Tapping the earpiece wildly, John's heart was fluttering nervously in his chest. Bad. Bad. Very bad.

"Something's wrong. Something's wrong, Clara's earpiece is dead."

The men needed no more persuasion as they swiftly left the thicket, guns wielded. Following behind them through the dark woods, he exhaled deeply at the sight of Clara. She was leaned up against a tree, eyes wide as her chest rose and fell. Skaldak was nowhere to be seen.

"Clara!" John moved forward quickly, wrapping the small, shaking girl into his arms, "Clara! Are you alright?"

"I'm...I'm fine. I'm ok, I'm ok!"

Clara's breathless laughter soothed John, as he knelt to scoop up the headset which had been thrown to the ground, "how'd I do? Was I good?"

"Not a test, Clara,"

"But was I good?"

John grabbed onto Clara's shoulders, smiling at her widely and kissing her cheek,

"Excellent,"

"Good. I...I dunno where he went."

"The men will find him. What happened?"

Before Clara could answer, the beams of flashlights cut through the woods, as the Captain appeared in the clearing. Beside him stood a lumber figure with grey curly hair and eyes that looked ready to kill. _Twelve._

"I swear, I can't leave you two alone together for five minutes," the Scottish roll of his elder brother was soothing yet horrifying at the same time as John pulled at his collar,

"Were you followin' us?"

Clara's voice snapped John out of his thoughts as Twelve huffed slightly and folded his arms,

"Yes. I mean...no...sort of? I had a feeling you two would get yourselves into trouble. And look at ye', out here chasing down escaped convicts," Twelve shook his head. If other men weren't present, John was almost certain he would get a good thrashing, "You two with me, _now_. Captain," Twelve gave the bearded man a good handshake, "sorry if these two caused any trouble?"

"Not at all, Detective. They were actually quite useful. Clara, John, it was a pleasure having you here,"

"We has an interesting time, Captain," Clara stated, letting the man kiss the back of her hand, while John settled for an awkward half salute. As his companion smiled and jogged off to meet with Twelve, who was already prowling back towards where they had come, John was stopped by a hand on his shoulder,

"Hold onto that one, boy," he stated, nodding his head like he knew something John didn't, "a lass like that only comes around once,"

"Noted,"

The Captain let out a hearty laugh as John quickly followed behind Clara and Twelve. Soon enough, they were all huddled back into the police cruiser after another trip across the lake, the boat trailer rattling along behind them. Clara had fallen asleep an hour or so into the three hour trip back home, leaving only John and Twelve in the front seat. Pulling at his (now ruined) bow tie, John glanced up as his brother made a grunting noise,

"You both could have gotten yourselves killed. That was stupid,"

"You do stupid all the time," John complained, though it was a weak argument and Twelve didn't look ready to back down so easily,

"I'm trained in stupid, mush brain. You're _not._ Got it? If Clara wasn't here I would have throttled you the minute I figured out where you ended up. You shouldn't be so reckless. There's only _one_ of her, you know. And only one of you,"

John remained quiet as he frowned. He didn't want anything to happen to his Impossible Girl. Him, he could care less about. But glancing back at Clara's peacefully sleeping figure, John smiled. The Captain was really right about her; once in a lifetime girl. Twelve made a noise as he turned up the radio slightly, causing John to look back at him tiredly.

"Maybe just a coffee next Wednesday. Yeah? Or will you go rob a bank afterwards?"

"Yeah," John smirked at his brother and sat back in his seat, "maybe."

 **A/N: Wow look at that! Another episode completed :) Sorry it took a little while, the plot of this one was giving me some serious trouble. I mean, it's pretty hard to transfer a sinking submarine setting into something even semi-realistic (stretching the 'semi' in the realistic here, guys). Anyway, here it is! I have some ideas on how to proceed with 'Hide', but I'm thinking ahead and am slightly stumped on what to do with 'Journey to the Center of the TARDIS'. I may have that one, as well as 'Nightmare in Silver' in Clara's point of view, but I don't know yet. Anyway, if you have any suggestions for 'Journey to the Center of the Tardis', feel free to comment what you had in mind. Cheers mates!**


	5. Chapter 4 (Cont)

Cold War: Aftermath

"Hmm, your eyes look fine," Ten waved the light across Clara's vision, watching the pupils as they dilated in and out, "good. Nothing broken or bruised?"

"No,"

"Uh huh, and temperature." Ten popped a thermometer behind Clara's tongue, waiting for it to buzz. When it did, the younger man removed the instrument and looked at it, "a little high for my tastes, but nothing fatal. Well Miss Oswald, it looks like you check out. I suggest a warm bath, lots of liquids and some bedrest,"

Ten gently tucked his equipment back into his medical bag, a smile on his face, "lucky you didn't catch hypothermia. Then we both would have been in trouble,"

"I'm glad of that to. Is John alright?"

"Eleven? Oh yeah, he's just a big baby," Ten chuckled slightly and shook his head, "a little fever and he thinks he's dying. He'll be fine after tonight I'm sure,"

"That's good. I was afraid it was something more serious," Clara's lip twitched as Ten made a quick expression with his brows, but it vanished as soon as it had appeared, "I suppose I should be getting back,"

"Indeed you should. It's...quarter midnight now, and a nice warm bed is waiting for you I'm sure,"

"Probably not till after the interrogation by the Maitland's. Angie is probably _very_ suspicious,"

"Well, that's not something I can cure unfortunately," Ten ran a hand through his gravity defying hair, only to stop as Clara's lip twitched slightly downwards again, "You're healthy, Clara. Why the long face?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Just thinkin' I guess. I should probably get going. Thanks for checking me over, Dr. Smith,"

"No problem, Clara. Your part of our little brood now, anytime you need a _real_ Doctor, just ring-a-ling,"

Ten held his fingers in a 'call me' motion, waving a wide hand as he vanished out the door and into the hall. Giggling to herself, Clara wrapped a warm quilt around her shoulders, only for her smile to drop again as her hand snuck into her pocket. Hidden there was a small piece of paper, just big enough to fit in her hand. Running a thumb across it, she gathered herself and left the guest room. The Smith house was all too familiar to her now. She spent lots of time here with John when he helped her study, or when she and he just...talked. But this time, instead of going to John's room, Clara took a different path. She snaked down the hall towards the staircase, padding down it a few steps to look into the living room. Twelve was down there with his board, clearing the papers off of it with wide flourishes,

"Did you catch em?"

Clara's voice was quieter then she meant as Twelve made a grunting sound, not even turning around as he tossed more evidence into a waste bin,

"Every last one. They were stupid enough to all be in the same place at the same time. We nabbed them in less then ten minutes,"

"And...the kidnapped people?"

Twelve was quiet for a moment, staring at his board,

"Sent back to their families, or to hospitals…"

 _Or to morgues_. It was a silent phrase which Clara heard loud and clear in her mind. She knew how hard it must have been, knowing that lives were always on the line if you didn't work quickly.

"Are you between cases now?"

This time, Twelve turned, leaning in the open doorway of the living room as his grey eyes pierced into Clara's very essence,

"You need something?"

"I...yes, Twelve. I do,"

"Ah, interesting. A girl who chases down convicts is asking an old man like me for help. You know, that's funny," Twelve actually laughed a bit as he turned back to his board, rubbing his slightly stubbly chin with both fingers. Frowning, Clara left her place on the stairs to stand beside him, "well spit it out then. What do you want? A background check on an old ex? Ooono, how bout a location of a long lost sibling? Those are always fun,"

"I would like one of those at some point, yes," Clara mumbled, thinking of Oswin for just a moment before shaking her head, "but not now. I have...something else,"

"Well come on then, don't keep an old man waiting,"

Wordlessly, Clara removed the paper from the pocket, holding it out for Twelve to take. As he did, his face went sullen, "oh,"

"Find her,"

"Clara…" Twelves tone was deep and warning as Clara shook her head,

"For me, please? For my piece of mind. For _him._ "

"Clara, you know I can't do this. It's a five year case, cut and dry. He killed her,"

"Every honorable man deserves a second chance," Clara snapped, biting her bottom lip harshly, "You would know that though."

Twelve stiffened slightly as his hands fumbled with the photograph. Clara knew about Twelve from John. She had heard his story. It scared her, yes, but it made her feel. It made her _feel_ for this sad, not-so-old man, "find her killer, Twelve. You're the only one I can trust to do this. Do as you are told."

Clara and Twelve stared at one another for a long time, will for will, eye to eye. It wasn't Clara who broke first though,

"Basil,"

"What?"

"You can call me Basil, if you'd prefer a name over a number," Twelve turned back to his board. Slowly, he removed one of the red pins from the cork, using it to impale the paper. Standing beside him, Clara inhaled shakily as a face no older than her own stared back at her, eyes gleaming with captured pride. Marsha Skaldak, murdered and then forgotten. It was what Marshal had told her in the woods, the last thing he had of his daughter which he shoved into her palm. He wanted justice, and she was going to give to him.

"He could have been lying, you know," Twelve mumbled, reaching out to feel the photograph with a thumb, "he could be stringing you along."

"I know," Clara said nothing else, staring at the image in the silence of the living room as Twelve sighed heavily. It was a deep and rattling sound which echoed in his throat, like it was a sigh that held to much pain to convey through words,

"It'll be difficult. I'll have the world against me,"

"You like the challenge, don't you?" Clara turned slightly, eyes alight as Twelve's stern lips flickered, and he pulled at his collar,

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Miss Oswald,"

"If I'm calling you Basil, Mr. Detective, you call me Clara. Yeah?"

"Yes ma'am," Twelve gave a mock salute, staring one last time at the photograph as he nodded, "big favor. Anything else while I'm at it?"

Clara smirked slightly as she held herself, rocking back and forth on her heels,

"How bout giving a girl a ride home. You certainly wouldn't want me running around alone at night?"

"You didn't seem to have a problem with that earlier,"

Twelve already had his jacket on, and his keys in hand as Clara wrapped her hands around his elbow, half hugging him as he stiffened under her touch, "I'm not a hugger, Clara,"

"You don't get much of a vote,"

By the time Clara returned home, all of her stress from the night was gone. Angie was up waiting for her, and as she waved to Twelve and disappeared into the house, the old man let an easy smile slip to his lips. As this happened though, his expression turned to one of horror as he dropped his head to the steering wheel, pounding it over and over again,

"Stupid old man, stupid, stupid."

Starting up his police cruiser, Twelve pulled from the curb harshly. As he drove though, he could still smell Clara beside him, her vanilla perfume seeping into his senses and causing his heart to flutter. He couldn't be doing this. He couldn't be falling hard and fast for Clara Oswald. And yet he lingered in his car a moment too long once back in the driveway, and Twelve knew the universe had screwed him over. He had _already_ lost.

 **A/N: Dun dun daa!. I wasn't originally planning on doing this with Twelve, but it just felt right somehow. I also felt the need to clear up what exactly happened between Clara and Skaldak during Cold War. Anyway, up next: Hide. Cheers!**


	6. Chapter 5

Hide

"It was pretty cool of your friend to invite you over tonight. What was her name again?"

Clara sat in the passenger's seat of the TARDIS, looking ethereal in the blue light of the radio as John struggled to keep his eyes on the road. It was pitch black out already, and heavy rain pounded the windshield as they drove. The road, which John barely considered a road at all, was curvy and made of dirt, meaning he had to be extra cautious of unwelcome hazards. Even with all the distractions though, Clara held his attention,

"Emma Grayling. She's an old Uni mate."

"Grayling. Sounds familiar,"

"She writes books actually," John smiled, thinking of his friends accomplishments. She had been very shy during Uni, always keeping to herself. It was amazing how much she had blossomed after graduating, "she writes books about how to live a fuller life."

"She's a life coach?" Clara took a Jammy Dodger from the half empty package in her lap, biting into it happily,

"No, she's too shy to do any actual coaching. But her books are well rated, or so I've heard. She's a natural empath, you know. It's actually spooky sometimes how well she can tune into people,"

"Huh, I can't wait to meet her." Clara waved about the uneaten half of her Jammy in the air, her neat brows curling as she glanced to John, a look of concern lacing her features, "you're sure she won't mind my tagging along?"

"Of course not, Clara. Any friend of mine is a friend of Emma's. Her fiancée Alec might be a bit grumpy about it, but he's...well, he's just like that,"

"Alec? Oh my gosh, now I know why the name Grayling sounded so familiar." Clara snapped her fingers in rapid succession, as though she were picking thoughts from the air, "Emma Grayling is the fiancée of _the_ Alec Palmer, leading man in the search for the Paranormal!"

"Yeah, that's him," John risked a glance at Clara, his own brows knitted as a smile flicked across his features, "how'd you know that?"

"I loved his show, _Paranormal Phenomenon_ , when I was a teenager. I was so sad when it got cancelled…" Clara trailed off as she ran a knuckle along the bottom of her lip, "wait a minute _,"_

"Yes?" John's eyebrows shot up into his hairline as Clara whirled in her seat, "the house we're visiting. You said it was Emma's fiancée's place,"

"Yep,"

"So that means it was purchased by _Alec Palmer._ Which means...oh no," Clara held a hand to her face as John pursed his lips, "it's haunted isn't it,"

" _Clever_ Girl," he drawled, chuckling as he maneuvered the TARDIS around a corner. A beam of lighting cracked down from the clouds just at that moment, illuminating the dark outline of a large, neglected looking mansion,

"You wanted to go _ghost_ _hunting?"_

"Ok, ok, you caught me. I didn't think Twelve's idea of coffee and a movie at the Cinema was exciting enough for today. _Especially_ compared to all of the other Wednesdays we've had so far. So I sort of…called in a favor?"

" _Ghost hunting?_ Doctor really. Of all the people...I thought you'd be more interested in fact than fiction. Ghosts aren't real,"

"Who says? You know, the shifting of magnetic fields in the presence of unnatural phenomenon was first used by ghost hunters,"

"Doctor please."

"You're the one who watched Alec's show, not me Clara,"

"I was just a teenager then," John stopped the TARDIS, setting her in park as he sat back to stare at his companion. She really _did_ look ethereal in the low light, her features accentuated by shadows, "I _don't_ believe in ghosts,"

"You say that now, Clara Oswald, but just you wait. This house has some amazing history in it. Trust me, you're going to love it."

"And you said you weren't the adventurous type, huh Chin Boy?" Clara reached out with a hand, capturing John's chin between her thumb and index finger. Her half lidded eyes gazed at him as John swallowed, unable to ignore the heat which suddenly engulfed him. As quickly as it had come though, it was gone. Clara retracted her hand, and instead was pulling a red umbrella from out of the back seat.

"Yes, well." John cleared his throat awkwardly, straightening his bow tie, "Let's try to keep as dry as possible. Don't want to drip all over the new home, ey?"

Smiling, Clara opened the TARDIS door and stepped out into the rain, unfurling her umbrella as the Doctor ran to catch up with her, jogging arm in arm through the darkness towards the single porch light illuminating the front of the house. More lighting crackled above as thunder peeled across the dark clouds, causing Clara to shift closer to him as John wrapped an arm around her middle. She was the perfect size for cuddling, something which he needed to keep in mind. Reaching out with a hand, John banged one of the large bronze knockers. When no answer came, he tried the more traditional way, banging against the doors with his fists.

"Do you always knock like that?" Clara hissed, slapping the Doctor's chest with the flat of her hand as he smiled, turning when the door opened. Unable to contain himself, John obscured his figure in the shadows, jumping out as an older man's face appeared on the stoop,

"Boo!"

The man, Professor Alec Palmer, jerked back in surprise, causing John to laugh slightly as he clapped his hands together, "hello! We're looking for a ghost,"

"And who are you?"

Alec blinked behind his glasses as Clara stepped up beside John, the folded up umbrella in her hands as she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mirth,

"Ghostbusters,"

John couldn't contain his giddyness as Alec grunted, unamused, stepping aside as a smaller woman with a short brown bob appeared. Her confused expression turned sweet as she grinned,

"John!"

"Emma! Hello!" John awkwardly raised a hand as Emma nodded in acknowledgement. She had never been a hugger, not like John was. He was content with waving, "sorry we're late, the weather gave us a bit of trouble,"

"Yes, yes of course come in. You both must be freezing."

"I thought only one friend was coming?" Alec grumbled, side glancing at his financée cautiously, then at Clara as both she and John entered the foyer, shaking themselves off,

"Oh tush, Alec. We have more than enough room here," Emma gave her soon-to-be husband a look before turning back to Clara, holding out her hand gently, "Emma Grayling,"

"Clara Oswald,"

The women shook hands happily as John ruffled slightly with pride. If anyone was able to bring Emma out of her shell it was Clara, and she was already working her magic. Emma seemed completely at ease, after all, they were about the same size. John knew that Clara hated having to look up in order to address someone, and he knew also that Emma had the same pet peeve. So as Emma whisked Clara towards the living room, whispering promises of warmth and tea, John turned to Alec,

"Ah, but you are very different. You are Major Alec Palmer. Member of the Baker Street Irregulars, the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare. Specialised in espionage, sabotage and reconnaissance behind enemy lines. You're a talented watercolourist, professor of psychology and ghost hunter. Total pleasure. Massive.

John took Alec's hand in a shake as the man stiffened up, a frown on his worn face.

"You don't know anything," he grumbled, rolling back his shoulders and taking his hand away from John's, "I was a POW for most of the war,"

"Actually, that's a lie told by a very brave man involved in very secret operations. The type of man who keeps a Victoria Cross in a box in the attic, eh?" John gave Alec a slap to the shoulder, whirling around on a heel to observe the living room, "and look at all of this stuff. Highly advanced equipment — costing thousands of pounds, yes?"

Reaching the multitudes of boxes, The Doctor flicked one of the toggle switches rapidly, smiling as he did, "I love a good toggle switch! Actually I like the word toggle. Nice noun, excellent verb."

"Doctor! I hope you aren't disrupting the Professors work."

Returning to the room with Emma — who carried tea in her hands — Clara was squeezing her hair into a towel. Whirling around on her, John shook his head.

"Ah, no, my Clara. I'm not."

"Since when did you become a Doctor?"

Emma's brows popped up as John smiled and laughed, taking his Impossible Girl across the shoulders and holding her close,

"I'm not, that's Ten's job. It's more of a personal story. For another time, I think. Because we are here for the _ghosts."_

Waving his hands dramatically, John beamed from ear to ear, wandering circles around the main room as lighting flickered outside the windows, "show me the ghost."

"I don't want this taken out from under me, understand?" Professor Palmer practically hissed the phrase as John shook his head wildly,

"Wouldn't ever dream of it. So, you are the ghost hunter, she is the empath. And we, Clara and I, are your willing audience. Aren't we Clara?"

"Don't have much of a choice, so yes. What have you found out so far, Professor?"

Pursing his lips together tightly, the Professor nodded his head, waving to a rolling board (one similar to Twelves) which he flipped to revealing all of his current research. The thing was pasted in photographs, notes, newspapers and more, all somehow connected to explain the haunted house.

"Caliburn House is over four hundred years old, but she has been here much longer. The Caliburn Ghast." Waving to many of the pictures, a faded woman in white could be seen in many of them, "She's mentioned in local Saxon poetry and parish folk tales. The Wraith of the Lady, the Maiden in the Dark, the Witch of the Well.

"Is she real? As in, actually real?" Clara clutched to the Doctor a bit tighter as the Professor made a noise and nodded.

"Oh, she's real. In the seventeenth century, a local clergyman saw her. He wrote that her presence was accompanied by a dreadful knocking, as if the Devil himself demanded entry. During the war, American airmen stationed here left offerings of tinned Spam. The tins were found in 1965, bricked up in the servants' pantry, along with a number of handwritten notes. Appeals to the Ghast. _For the love of God, stop screaming_."

Tapping the particular note in question, Emma took a rather loud sip of tea as the tension diffused and the Professor shook his head, "I've been writing a new novel, see. And unraveling this mystery is at the center of it."

"And I'm guessing your equipment isn't as advanced as it needs to be, hence the non-objective equipment," waving to Emma mindlessly, the Doctor still stared at the board, "must be used to find her."

"That's right, very good."

"Alec, I think I want to take another reading from the main room," Emma said gently, "come with me?"

"Of course. Please, feel free to wander if you'd like. Just yell if you need anything. We'll be in the front room,"

"The music room is the heart of the house," Emma said offhandedly, leaning in the doorway leading to the foyer, "if you're interested."

Taking his new wife by the hand, Professor Palmer led her out as Clara continued to look at the board in curiosity. She jumped though as John suddenly tapped the top of her head, startling her.

"You coming?" His smile was like a child's, a candelabra in his hand already as he bounced back and forth on his toes.

"Where?"

"To find the ghost."

"Why would I want to do that?" Clara wrapped her arms around herself as John came closer to the door leading out of the study, the firelight just barely illuminating his features.

"Because you want to. Come on."

"Well, I dispute that assertion." Pouting and keeping close to the board, Clara tried not to show her fear. This merely just made her look smaller in the moonlight as John rolled his eyes and tossed his head dramatically.

"Eh? I'm giving you a face. Can you see me? Look at my face."

Hesitating a moment longer than necessary, Clara's pout grew deeper as her marble eyes shined in the dark. For the first time in a while, John could see true uncertainty there. He thought about making a jab at her fear, but stopped as she took a few long strides towards him, that half-sides smiled he loved fallen onto her lips.

"Dare me."

"I dare you. No takesies backsies."

Clara's face lit up as she took the candelabra, her hand lingering over John's fingers for a moment more than necessary as she stole the light and began to lead the way through the house. It was an old place, and the power had yet to be repaired except for in the front room. This left Clara as the only light source, giving her figure a distinct glowing halo from behind. John liked the view he had of her, but he would never admit it. Keeping close to one another, thunder rolled outside as Clara inhaled shakily.

"Say we actually find her. What do we say?"

"We ask her how she came to be whatever she is." John responded easily, looking up and down the walls in curiosity.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know, and ignorance is, what's the opposite of bliss?"

"Carlisle?"

"Yes. Yes, Carlisle. Ignorance is Carlisle."

Blinking a few times as they passed through the darkened kitchen, John scowled. Was that even English? If it wasn't; Clara certainly didn't call him on it as they passed through the house. At first nothing seemed odd except for the eerie atmosphere. But as they entered the music room, shoulder to shoulder, the mood changed.

"Doctor,"

Clara's voice had dropped low, her legs moving so carefully as to not make any sort of noise on the floor,

"The music room," he announced to no one in particular, twirling around on a heel to take in the space, "the heart of the house."

"Doctor, do you feel like you're bein' watched?"

"What does being watched feel like?" Turning to his companion with a knowing grin, she looked very small in the darkness of his shadow, "is it the funny feeling of the hairs prickling up on the back of your neck?"

"That's the chap,"

"Then yes. A little bit. Actually, more than a little bit. A big bit."

Moving forward in the room, Clara didn't follow. She was seemingy frozen in place.

"I think she's here."

Hearing the phrase sent shivers down John's spine as he stepped into a doorway, his brows popping up as a cloud of breath fogged up before his nose.

"Cold spot. Spooky." Stepping in and out of the space, John's brows furrowed. "Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm." Moving in each direction, the Doctor took metal note of what he was feeling. "Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. Cold."  
"Doctor? Doctor!"

"What?" Glancing up from his personal investigation of the cold spot, Clara was physically shivering. Her face was darkened over with shadows, John wanted nothing more then to pull her in close and hold her tightly.

"I'm not happy."

"No." Shaking his head, John took Clara by the hand and pulled her out of the music room and straight through the cold spot. They skidded to a stop in the dark hallway however as the storm raged angrily outside, seeming to pick up ferocity. In the darkness, a figure could be seen as a sharp scream left Clara's throat. In an instant the figure was gone, leaving both people shivering in one another's presence. Hurrying down the stairs into the light of the main hall, Emma was waiting, her face bright and worried.

"Did something happen?"

"Erm, yes. Emma could you take Clara to get a drink. I need to speak with the Professor."

Passing Clara's shaking form to Emma, who took her by the hand into the annex kitchenette in the study, John approached the Professor where he worked.

"I don't think it's a ghost,"

His words were crisp and sharp, pulling the other man from his work as he turned and knitted his brows,

"What?"

"The ghost. I don't think it's a ghost at all. I think it's a person. A very living person."

"How can you tell?"

"Upstairs. In the darkness. It was to physical to be a ghost, to solid. They know this house better than anyone, they've been avoiding you —"

"John!"

Glancing up as Emma ran into the foyer, there was a wild look on her face. Standing from his spot, Palmer ran to his wife, holding her as she pointed towards outside, "t-there's something out there! Clara and I, we saw it,"

"Where?"

"Running towards the forest. Clara took off, I couldn't stop her."

"Bloody hell!" Whirling about on a heel, John felt his heart racing, beating hard against the inside of his ribs as he threw open the front door. Outside, he could hear the engine of the Tardis turn over, coughing to life. Holding his head, John watched, standing in the ran as his beloved car skidded out of the driveway with Clara determinedly behind the wheel.

Having a distinctly bad feeling about what was going to happen next, especially with how much power the Tardis had under the hood, John took off running into the dark after the vanishing tail lights. The rain came down in torrents, practically blinding him. His legs moved on their own, as though he was running for his life. For a split second John felt disoriented as he passed through the tree line, a deep growling in his ears as the sound of a distant smashing of metal caused him to stop.

Clara.

"Help!"

The voice which called out to him in the darkness wasn't that of his Impossible Girl, but of someone else. John wasn't sure who it could be — perhaps whomever Clara had run off to find? "Someone! Please, help!"

Finding his way through the scarcely lit forest, John could smell smoke and gasoline. The nearer he got, the more dread pooled in his stomach. Pushing through the foliage into a clearing, the Tardis was crushed up against the trunk of a tree. She was still running, but the drivers door was open, a dark skinned girl in a white coat holding Clara's body by the shoulders.

"Clara!"

Running forward and falling to his knees beside his companion, John's fingers shakily felt the long red cut on Clara's hairline, and the deep gash in the palm of her right hand.

"I-I'm so sorry, this is my fault! She was chasing me, I should have just stopped…"

Shaking in panic, the Doctor wanted to reassure the stranger that everything would be alright. And as he pressed two fingers to Clara's neck, her pulse was strong.

"She'll be alright I think. Just a hard knock to the head. Who are you, what's your name?"

"Hila Tacorian,"

"And you're the one who's been in the house? Hiding?"

"Yes! Yes I'm so sorry. This is all my fault, this is all my fault!"

Holding the girl's shoulder with a hand, John pursed his lips as he stared down at Clara worriedly. She was under his care, under his protection.

"She'll be alright, Hila. Don't worry. She _has_ to be."

 **A/N: Hello all! Rose here, back again with an update to this story! Each episode is getting more and more challenging to convert into something more realistic, which is why I fell into hiatus on this for a while. But I'm back at it now, and I want to finish. I wasn't pleased with the ending of this chapter as is doesn't necessarily reflect Hide well, but I needed a leeway into Journey to the Center of the TARDIS, which is going to be a pain to write. I'll probably be writing an inbetween as well. Anyway I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, and keep your eyes open for the next.**


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